


Daminette December

by MaxDark158



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Introspection, Pining, no plot just angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:40:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxDark158/pseuds/MaxDark158
Summary: Hi. I'm here. To try my best. Wish me luck, I'm sorry if I'm late on any.I'm going to try and make all of these angsty. Some will have happy endings. All will be in different universes. A collection of oneshots. Some will be long as hell and some will be short. I apologize in advance for this mess.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118
Collections: Miraculous Crossover





	1. Day One: Just A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking on this! Depression hit hard with Demon in Gotham and that entire universe, but I will continue. It'll just be very slowly.

How many times had she heard that phrase?

Marinette sat on the balcony of her house. Her parents were sleeping downstairs. Tikki was snoozing on the homemade bed Marinette made for her. She made it what felt like forever ago, when Hawkmoth first started his relentless attacks. He’d been defeated and Mauyra was on the run but they were close to her too and-

So much had changed over the years – she’s taller now, barely. Her hair is longer. She has, somehow, more freckles. She hates the cold and Adrien is her best friend. She’s almost done with Lycée, in her last year.

But no matter how much time passed, or who said them, those words still hurt. There’s only four of them too.

_She’s just a friend._

First, it was Adrien, back when she thought she was in love with the dork. She’s glad she came to her senses, being his best friend is a lot better. Especially when helping him try and get a boyfriend – poor loser can’t do it on his own.

Then it was Luka. That hadn’t hurt as much, they did end it on mural terms. Still, hearing it brought up memories of before. It wasn’t a fresh wound, just a reopened one.

Now Damian. Damian Wayne, her current crush and friend. The one Adrien gave her advice to score. The one Luka said would be good for her.

> _“Our sources say your family has been in contact with rising designer MCD, you in particular. Any comments?”_
> 
> _“No comments.”_
> 
> _“You sure? Rumor has it you two are-“_
> 
> _“She’s just a friend. We are not dating. No further comments.”_

It shouldn’t have hurt her as much as it did. As much as it does.

Marinette took a deep breath. It wasn’t super cold, but she still had her blanket around her shoulders. She could count some of the stars in the sky. _One, two, three, four…_

Damian Wayne was her friend. That isn’t a bad thing. Friendships are important and valuable and at least she can be his friend. At least she can hope these feelings die and rot and continue being his friend.

She wished she didn’t have to be _just_ a friend. Just a hero just a person just a girl just someone lost among the faces forgotten and unknown just…

Just someone ordinary.

_She’s just a friend._

Maybe if it wasn’t phrased that way she could be better with accepting it. Better at being happy at the label of ‘friend’ or at being a friend. Was she a bad friend? Is that why she’s always ‘just’ a friend?

Because that’s really why it hurts. This isn’t a new wound. It’s been opened and reopened over time. It’s painful and infected and Marinette feels herself getting sick.

Friendship shouldn’t be lesser. She isn’t lesser.

But that’s how she feels. Because that’s what she always is, right?

_She’s always just a friend._


	2. Day Two: Blind Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, this one actually continued off Day 1. Day 3 will not continue off them though and will be posted soonish (3 hours tops)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft Damian having emotions. how dare

“Blind dating?” Damian stared at Marinette through the screen. _What?_

“Yeah,” she sounded cheerful, per normal. He could only see her head and shoulders though – was she shuffling her feat? Clenching her fist? He couldn’t get a good read on her.

Or maybe he was looking for a read. Something that negated what he just heard, something that proved it wrong, showed she didn’t want to…

“I mean, nothing’s worked out with anyone so far. May as well try something new,” Marinette laughed in a way she always described as awkward but Damian sort of disagreed with that sentiment.

It was cute. She was cute.

Yes, he could fucking admit it thank you very fucking much.

“Blind dating could be dangerous, though,” the words fell out of his mouth but honestly he didn’t want to stop them. He- _fuck_ he didn’t even get a chance, did he?

“I know. I’m taking all the precautions I can with this. I just figured I could try, you know?”

Damian hated emotions. They made lumps form in his throat which made sound difficult so he couldn’t explain what a horrible idea that was.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Damian had- he wanted to ask her out. Court Marinette, as in Marinette Dupain-Cheng, resident Angel of both Paris and Gotham. Of course, when he was asked about his relationship with MCD, he said they were friends – because what asshole asks someone out on TV like that? When they'd be shamed for rejecting.

Seems, for once, he moved too slow.

He lost his chance.

“Damian?”

“Sorry, Angel, I zoned out,” he rolled his eyes. “Can you run your dates by me? I want to check them too.”

“Aw, Dami,” she grinned. “You do care!”

He did. He cared a lot, actually. It was one of the emotions he hated less than the others.

“Tch, not wanting you to die is the bare minimum of care any friend should offer, Angel.”

She laughed again. The call ended quickly after that, for some reason. He didn’t pay much attention, though. He oddly felt like curling up. Doing nothing.

_It’s my own damn fault._

Damian hates emotions. He hates having to feel and understand why and in general he just… he hates them. They’re inhibitors at best, even if they offer things like happiness those are short-lived and trivial. The ones that aren’t…

He forced himself to take a deep breath. Marinette was still his friend. Angel was still his friend.

That had to be enough. It would be.

Damian would make it be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day.


	3. Day 3: Decorating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woooot this one is sadder than pining good luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death and Suicidal thoughts

A vase of flowers on each table with white stargazer lilies and pink carnations. Along the edges of the room were pots of gladioli, also white. The room smelt so heavily of pollen it would have driven her mad if she still had her miraculous. Even now, she still had some lingering effects. Maybe she’d be eating a snack if she had an appetite.

Marinette looked over the room. Black napkins at all the seats. Immaculate snack table, not a crumb out of place. Was there too much color? What is too much color?

How does one decorate in this situation?

 _No._ Shove it down, shove it back get rid of it stop it, no emotions no sadness no grief stop it, stop it-

She went around the room, one pot of gladioli at a time, rearranging them and plucking brown leaves. Her mind was numb. She focused on the movement of her hands. _Shuffle, pluck, shuffle, pluck._

One of the things Marinette learned from fighting against a villain that used emotions was that she was able to focus on her physical actions to drown them out. She’d usually sew but… she wasn’t sure she'd be able to. She couldn’t see herself enjoying life ever again. She-

 _No._ Habits were hard to break. She wasn’t in Paris right now. There was a new ladybug, no demand for her to go back anytime soon. She didn’t have to do this to herself she didn’t have to stop feeling she didn’t have to she didn’t she didn’t-

Marinette took a step back from the pot of flowers. Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them with the black sleeve of her dress. Her throat tightened around nothing – or maybe around the emotion that had her on a chokehold. Her lungs ached. From crying, trying to breathe – she couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t breathing.

She didn’t care.

_Why should I get to breathe? Why should I get to survive?_

Deep breath.

Marinette forced a breath in. And out. She sobbed, quiet and defeated and broken and she hated it. She hated it so damn much. She understood, now, why he hated emotions so much. Why Damian-

She sobbed again. Just… just thinking of him hurt.

How would she face his casket? Would she even be able to watch it be lowered to the ground?

Marinette’s knees felt weak. She pulled out a chair, ruining the immaculate image of the reception for the funeral, his funeral her love, her love that is gone-

Her feet went up onto the seat. She didn’t care about the upholstery. She buried her face in her knees and she sobbed. Her lungs hurt and ached and she sobbed. Her eyes might never stop leaking water and she _sobbed_.

The funeral hadn’t even started yet and she was already crying. But just the thought of him being dead, of not being _here_ , even if it wasn’t fresh it still hurt. Remembering him, how much she loved him, it broke her heart. It broke her heart and the pieces stabbed at her lungs and made it hard to breathe.

And she sobbed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng Wayne, the recent widow of Damian Wayne, sat in the reception of his funeral hours before it would even start. And she bawled and cried and sobbed. She wasn’t sure she would ever stop.

Why did she even try to be here, to make things look nice? How does one even decorate for a funeral?

Marinette’s heart was in pieces and her throat was tight and her lungs ached and her eyes were wet. And his heart wasn’t beating and his throat wasn’t working and his lungs weren’t breathing and his eyes are closed. Forever.

_Why couldn’t it have been me?_

Marinette Dupain-Cheng Wayne sobbed alone in a chair all over her black dress. And he wasn’t there to kiss her forehead or tell her it would be okay or call her Angel.

He wouldn’t be again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day.


End file.
